


Please, Just See Me

by Frostwells



Category: ITV Victoria (2016)
Genre: 01x01, Angst, Doll no. 123, F/M, Friendship, Older Man/Younger Woman, Romance, Unrequited Love, Victoria is a queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7905769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostwells/pseuds/Frostwells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was nothing but her adviser and he kept it that way. But that doesn't stop him from loving his queen from afar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, Just See Me

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the first episode of ITV Victoria and I'm already in love with it. I'm utterly in love with Melbourne and his relationship with Victoria. I know for sure they won't end up together (because history) but it doesn't hurt to imagine the what ifs.
> 
> This fic was inspired by The Professor by Charlotte Bronte. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN VICTORIA.  
> CLAIMER: I DO OWN ALL MY GRAMMATICAL MISTAKES.

There’s a climax to everything, to every state of feeling as well as to every position in life. And with ever climax is an end. The grey-eyed Lord reflected his time with the young queen and knew he was nothing more than Victoria’s adviser in the eyes of the public. He was there only to guide her, teach her the ways of becoming a fine queen. Of course, he had an ulterior motive of offering his services; a motive he no longer remembers.

Viscount William Melbourne had grown to deeply care for the Queen, always by her side whenever she called for him. He would be there to ease her uncertainty, make her laugh, to make sure she felt loved as a person and as the Queen of England. Melbourne would never admit it, but he was her most loyal subject.

He was not ignorant to Victoria’s feelings towards him. He had heard the whispers of the maids, highly disapproving of their close relationship. _Mrs. Melbourne_ , they would call her. Of course, it would be in jest to only insult Melbourne.

Mocking that he would never have Victoria as his wife. He learned to accept that painful reality.

He’d seen the looks of affection every time his eyes locked with Victoria’s azure orbs. He wasn’t blind. The lord would slightly cough, making the brunette return to reality and focus her attention to the matter at hand, whatever that may be.

Often times,it would be on purpose, her lips curving into a small smile that she only reserved for him. Melbourne had to remind himself that she was not his nor would she ever be. He was her mentor, nothing more.

There had been instances where he would have to reject her advances for both their sakes. He recalled that one particular evening, the night of his Majesty’s Coronation Ball, where Melbourne declined her.

“I wish to dance with you forever!”

He’d seen the look of hope and happiness in those blue eyes of hers, paralyzing him. It was a rare look his Queen sported, even if she was under the influence of the alcohol. She eagerly ran to him, waiting for his response.

The truth was, he couldn’t say anything.

His heart thudded in his chest erratically, blood rising to his pale cheeks. He felt his hands become moist underneath his white gloves, desperately fighting the urge to rudely wipe it away in front of Victoria.

“You’re too young,” was his pathetic response. She was already a woman capable of bearing children. She was a woman old enough for marriage. She was already old enough to be Queen Victoria of England.

“I’m eighteen!” Victoria exclaimed defiantly, her hands on her hips.

Melbourne inwardly shook his head. The little temptress she is. She had no idea what she was asking of him. He wanted nothing more to sweep her into his arms and dance the night away, preferably in his chambers. He wanted to teach the young queen what it truly meant to be a woman, especially if she continued to look longingly at him with her pale, blue eyes.

But she was just _too young_.

Victoria may be a queen, but she was nothing more than a girl who was naïve to the world; naïve to his desires.

So he fled from her.

“Perhaps another time.”

He’d seen the fleeting look of hurt and sadness that passed on her delicate features. Melbourne felt immediate regret and wanted nothing to soothe that look that he caused. But he couldn’t. He needed to distance himself from her. To save her from himself. He couldn’t save his late wife or son, but he could save Victoria from indulging herself in his darkness. So he ran from her.

Things were longer as they were previous to that night. She would no longer gift him with that look of adoration that she saved only for him. He found himself having more free time since she refused to call him for aid when she required it. _Stubborn woman._

Melbourne attempted to mend their broken relationship, but it was far too damaged. He should be grateful that she even still permitted him in her private company after breaking her heart. It was her blasé attitude towards him that he realized that he what he felt for Victoria ran deeper than affection one would have for a friend.

He was truly in love with her.

It was that sudden realization that made him pity himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to think he had an opportunity to be with the young queen. Then, when the opportunity presented him, he rejected it. Now, the old lord’s heart belongs to the woman who rules all of England.

Melbourne allowed himself to come to terms that he loved Victoria and would continue to do so from afar. There was no need to burden her with old news that she moved on from. After all, she had a whole country to run.

 

* * *

 

 

It was rather a fine afternoon, the sun breaking out from the usual dreary clouds that hovered the land. Melbourne took a moment took appreciate at the much needed sunshine and flowers that coated the grounds.

It had been exhausting lately, with the countless meetings that he aided Victoria to, helping her recall all the lords, dukes and barons. They had rarely any leisurely times to themselves nowadays.

Around mid afternoon, Melbourne accompanied her out of one of the meeting rooms, asking with solicitude after noticing how much paler Victoria was. She scolded him sweetly, to mind his own business with a smile before reassuring him properly. They paused in front of an opened, glassed door that led to garden that sometimes the Queen, herself, attended.

“Will you go to the garden,” she asked, “until they leave?”

The Queen jutted her chin unwomanly towards the direction which they came from. Melbourne descended the steps without answering. However, he looked back as much to say –

“Will you come with me?”

In another minute, the lord and queen were walking side by side down the alley bordered with fruit trees, whose white blossoms were in full bloom, graced with vibrant, green leaves. The sky was blue, puffy white clouds scattered about. The air was still, the May afternoon was full of brightness and fragrance as opposed to cloudy days and rain.

Surrounded with flowers and foliage, with the smiling queen by his side, Melbourne felt very enviably. Often times, his fantasies would plague him, giving him romantic visions his imaginations would portray. Another way to remind him that Victoria is not his. But he contented himself with loving her from afar until he is no longer needed.

He offered her his arm to Victoria and led her to a garden chair, nestled nearby some lilacs. Once seated, she beckoned him to fill in the vacant seat beside her. He obeyed and took his place by her side.

They sat in silence, relaxing at the sounds of chirping of birds and the buzz of insects. After some short time, the young woman went on talking to him about several topics, ranging from her mother to the gossip of her maids. He listened, losing himself in her gentle voice, falling even more in love with the petite woman beside him.

They could hear the dinner bell ringing in the distance, signaling that they should return to the mansion. Before she could walk back, Melbourne grasped her arm, making her look up at him in confusion.

“Yes, Lord M?” she asked, her eyes bright as the sky above her.

“I wish for something,” Melbourne asked, his grey eyes never leaving her gaze.

“What is it?”

“Only a flower.”

She looked at him exasperatedly. “Go on then! Take two or twenty if you want.”

“No,” he shook his head, softly smiling at his queen. “One will suffice. But I wish for you to gather it, and give it to me.”

“What an odd request,” she murmured, her eyes dancing in mirth. Nonetheless, she raised herself on her tip-toes and plucked a small branch of lilacs, offering it to her mentor with grace. He took it, satisfied with the present before escorting her back to the mansion. Smiling to himself, perhaps Melbourne would allow himself a little bit of hope for the future.

 

* * *

 

 

Many moons have passed since the arrival of Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and his company. Peace and quietness were long gone in the mansion. It seemed like a distant memory where the only worry its inhabitants had was whether if the queen’s ability to perform her duties or not. With the influence of Albert, Victoria had become more of a hellion than what people were used to.

The Queen would skip her studies, running to the woods with the boy. She would fall for the taunts the young man would set for her, ruining her image as a Queen. As much as people disapproved of Victoria’s relationship with her guest – most especially Lord Melbourne – there are been positive changes to her as well. Her mannerisms would miraculously improve, and her knowledge of social behavior increased as well. People thought it was Albert’s doing, so they refused to interfere with their friendship.

It seemed that the young queen would spend all her available time with the Prince, always fencing, horse riding, even dining with him. Some would say she is absolutely smitten with the young man, just as she was with Melbourne once upon a time.

Much to the older man’s dismay, it seemed that Victoria no longer required his services. Each day would pass without her inquiring him for his aid. He would approach Victoria only to be rejected, saying that Albert has been teaching her in his stead. Melbourne felt a massive wave jealously but forced himself not to show it.

With the amount of free time the old lord had, he felt a sudden discomfort at the thought he might be released from his duties soon. It was inevitable; he knew this day would come but what he did not anticipate was the sudden sadness he felt. He would leave his Victoria who he had watched grow into a fine queen.

“Lord M, am I good queen?” she would ask him when she felt insecure. He would cup her cheeks in reassurance, making sure her blue eyes would not stray from his grey ones.

Melbourne’s answer was always the same.

“Ma’am, in my eyes, you’re every inch of a queen.”

Victoria would grace him with a smile at his response, pleased that his answer never changed since they first became acquainted. A smile he’d grown to miss. He noticed that the same smile that she once reserved only for him seemed to belong to another man.

Filled with sudden melancholy and regret, Melbourne sought solace at the mansion’s garden. He seated himself at the spot beside Victoria’s chair the once shared many months ago.

The quiet night was interrupted by a soft voice not far in the distance from him. He strained to hear what the girl was saying, most likely one of Victoria’s handmaidens. The murmur he heard was slowly approaching but filled with slight frustration when silence filled the air once more.

He knew it was someone conversing, that much was obvious. Who would talk to themselves if they were not ill? Another voice replied to the soft murmur, a voice belonging to a man. Following that was a woman; both man and woman that were heading towards Melbourne.

Their forms were nothing but a silhouette, but Melbourne could discern a dusk outline of each. However, a ray of the moonlight met them was they stopped at the end of the path, and revealed very plainly that Queen Victoria, arm in arm with the boy, Albert.

“When do you wish to get married?”

Melbourne swore his heart stopped.

“I’m not sure. With my duties, it’s almost impossible to tell, Albert.”

“How can I wait so long, my love?” the boy teased, leaning closer to the petite brunette. “Who knows? My interests may be directed to some other fair maiden who’s more than willing to marry me.”

Victoria laughed. “For shame, Albert! I do want to marry you but you just have to be patient. And if you do find some other queen that’s willing to marry you as you are, that saves me making a wedding gown.”

He made a show of looking hurt, dramatically clutching his heart. “Such cruelness, your Majesty. You must take joy in my distress; take sport of my torment. What other explanation is there? You’d even go as far as to make me jealous by casting encouraging glances at that Lord M that follows you around.”

“His name is Lord Melbourne to you, sir. And do you say that he is in love with me?” Victoria asked curiously.

“Undoubtedly so.”

“Has he told you so?”

“No, but it is evident in his face. He blushes whenever your name is mentioned or if he’s in your presence. A man know this, your Majesty.”

A little laugh erupted from Victoria, indicating she is pleased from this piece of information. Albert proceeded to ask her about what she intended for Melbourne, intimating that it was nonsense for her to even think of taking an old man as a husband, since he must be twenty years older than her.

Melbourne heard her exclaim to him that she had no intentions on the subject, but Albert still pressed her for a definite answer.

“Albert,” she laughed, “you are jealous!” She continued to laugh, something Melbourne wished she’d do often. She continued in a more lax tone. “Truly, dear Albert, I will not lie and say that Lord M isn’t special to me. He is. I may even have loved him when I was a mere woman coming out from girlhood. But that was a long time ago. I have done nothing to encourage his behaviour and I always treated him with as much reserve as it was possible to combine with civility. I would give no man false hopes, believe me.”

Still, Albert uttered murmurs of distrust – so Melbourne judged by her response.

“How could even love a despicable, old man such as Melbourne? He could not bear comparison with you either physically or mentally; he’s not even a handsome man but for me – “

The sentence was lost in the distance as the pair made their way back the mansion, unbeknownst to them that Melbourne heard everything.

He knew of Victoria’s affection towards him long ago, but to only to hear her confirm it to another man filled the lord with deep regret. He should’ve allowed himself to dance with her forever when she asked him. That way, he could’ve saved himself the painful heartbreak he felt in his chest. He promised to love her from afar and this is what he gets. She is to be wed to another man.

He trudged his way back to his chambers, his heart heavy. She loved him. Victoria loved him. His small, beautiful queen had loved him but he broke her heart because he was a damn coward.

Now that _boy_ wooed him with his charms and she was forever lost to Melbourne.

Lord Melbourne never cried since the death of his son. No, a lord such as him did not weep. But that night, as he lay feverish in his bed, he found his cheeks stained with tears, lamenting of a love that would never be.

He will leave in the morning. Melbourne would leave a letter to his queen, withdrawing his services since it was plain to see she no longer needed it. It was better for all of them that the lord would remove himself from the narrative. It would make Victoria happy and his presence won’t delay her marriage with Albert.

She can finally be happy and move on. Even it tore his heart to let her go, he loved her enough to let her go.

After all, he was the old lord that loved his young queen from afar.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


End file.
